


The End of Me

by howtosingit



Series: An Officer and A Gentleman: Carlos Reyes Week 2021 [5]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Romance, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtosingit/pseuds/howtosingit
Summary: The reality of life is that, one day, it comes to an end. Unfortunately, Carlos Reyes faces that day long before he is ready for it.*Written for Carlos Reyes Week - Day 5: “Just, hold on” + hurt/comfort
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: An Officer and A Gentleman: Carlos Reyes Week 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124069
Comments: 20
Kudos: 193
Collections: Carlos Reyes Week 2021





	The End of Me

\- - - - - 

When Carlos comes to, he’s truly surprised by how okay he feels.

The shattered windshield of his Camaro twinkles harrowingly in his direct line of sight, rain continuing to pour down outside, the droplets bursting against the webbed cracks of glass. At any other moment, he would find it peaceful, the stream of falling water creating a symphony of music for an audience of one, but right now it feels foreboding. He can’t escape the feeling that if the glass finally gives and the rain finds its way inside, it’ll only make this car crash situation worse. 

He shakes his head, blinking to refocus on everything else around him. He’s responded to enough calls like this to know that he should take stock of his injuries, since it will be the first question that the medics will ask when they arrive. He takes a deep breath, noticing how easy it is to do that normally. That likely rules out any trauma to his lungs, which is a relief. 

In fact, as he assesses the state of his body, surrounded by the evidence of his Camaro being slammed into a concrete guardrail, he’s relieved to find that he doesn’t really feel pain anywhere. It seems unlikely, sure, but he also wonders if the adrenaline coursing through him is just masking the pain. He knows he’ll find out as soon as he tries to move.

Except, the pain never comes.

Almost in the blink of an eye, Carlos is outside of his car, standing in a downpour of rain that, in all honesty, doesn’t even feel that wet. Austin is warm this time of year, for sure, but the summer evening rain storms still induce a chill, even for someone like Carlos, who always runs hot. TK always enjoys when Carlos gets a little cold, teasing him about his natural, furnace-like capabilities being faulty before he cuddles up next to him in bed to stop the shivers running through his own body. Carlos always laughs before wrapping his arms around him, happy to warm up his boyfriend.

Tonight, though, the rainfall doesn’t feel that bad at all. In fact, he’d hardly notice it if it wasn’t coming down right in front of his own two eyes. Before he can think too hard about it, his gaze is pulled towards the other car involved in the accident, it’s headlights still flashing, as if the crash has jammed up the wiring and caused them to malfunction.

Carlos runs towards the car, peering through the driver-side front window. He can see the driver - a bearded, middle-aged man - but no one else inside. The man’s head lolls from side to side, as if he’s still dazed from the crash.

“Sir!” he yells, banging on the window. “Sir!”

There’s no reply, or any indication that the man has heard him. He tries the door handle, to no avail. Peering inside again, he takes in the man’s demeanor, his past experiences in similar situations telling him that the man probably has a concussion. Or, at least, it does until he spots the collection of empty beer bottles laying in the passenger seat next to him, some even rolling around on the floorboard.

“Fuck!” Carlos yells, trying the door again. When he can’t get it to move, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. As he unlocks the screen, he moves back towards his car, wondering if he has something in his trunk that he can use to try to open the door.

He’s only taken a few steps when he runs into someone, his brain supplying an instant “so sorry” for his mouth as he dials 9-1-1 on his phone. It’s not until he’s raised the device to his ear that his brain makes sense of the moment. Carlos freezes, spinning around to see a man standing there, his back to him.

“Sir, are you hurt?” he asks, his voice rising in panic. “Sir, I’m a police officer. Can you tell me if you’re at all injured?” he asks again, moving to circle around him. When they’re face-to-face, Carlos looks up into the man’s eyes, his heart slamming into his chest when he recognizes their exact shape and color.

“Dad?” he chokes out, his mind spinning.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening right now.

Carlos knows, logically, that this can’t be his dad. His dad, the man that he hasn’t seen since he was thirteen years old; the man who gave him a pat on the back on the way out the door, never to walk through that door again; the man who left without so much as a goodbye, not because he wanted to, but because some sick, twisted phantom of fate willed it to happen. 

His dad can’t be standing here in front of him now, not when he’s been dead for over fifteen years. 

And yet, it _is_ his dad. 

Carlos stares into his father’s bright brown eyes, surrounded by the same youthful face that he remembers from when he was in middle school. His father doesn’t look a day older than when Carlos last saw him, his short, curly black hair still peppered with a gray hair or two. Staring at him now, the man is instantly recognizable, a feeling of familiarity pouring into Carlos’s heart as his dad looks down at him softly, a wide smile lighting up his face.

“My boy,” he says, in that same warm, musical voice that Carlos remembers. His breath catches in his throat at the sound of it, and he can’t help but to lunge forward, falling against his dad’s chest as he wraps his arms around him. His father is quick to hug him back, and Carlos can’t stop the tears that well up in his eyes at the touch.

He has no idea what’s going on right now, but he finds that he’s too overwhelmed to try to make sense of it. He pulls back, desperate to see his father’s face again, and his dad brings his hand up to cup his cheek, his smile still just as wide as before.

“You’ve gotten so big, mijo,” his dad cries, reaching for Carlos’s shoulders and shaking him a little bit, his eyes running up and down him. “Wow, you’re almost as big as your Tío Ernesto!”

Carlos laughs, ducking away to hide his smile. He and his uncle are the same height now, the tallest ones in the family, and they’ve been in a friendly competition for almost a decade to see who will pull ahead and take the lead.

“You look happy, mijo,” his dad adds, running a hand through Carlos’s hair, messing with his curls. Carlos is surprised when the movement doesn’t shake more water onto his face.

“I don’t understand how you’re here, papa,” he admits, their eyes locked together again. He watches as his father’s smile falls, his eyes growing weary as he takes a deep breath. 

“Carlos,” his dad starts, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You were in a car accident.”

“I know,” Carlos says, nodding as he opens his arms, gesturing to his body. “Somehow I didn’t even get a scratch on me.” He freezes for a moment, suddenly remembering the driver from the other car. “Oh, fuck, the driver,” he says, turning back to the car. “Dad, you have to help me get him out!”

He runs back over to the door, trying to pull it open once more. When he looks up, he’s surprised to find his dad walking casually towards him, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Help me with this!” he cries, desperately throwing his weight against the car door. His dad comes to a stop in front of him, laying a hand on his shoulder again. Carlos feels the touch, the heat of it.

“Carlos,” his father says again, his tone serious. It causes Carlos to pause, all of his attention on his father. “You were in a car accident.”

This time, the words sound different. He turns to look over the hood of the car next to him, spotting his Camaro in the distance. The passenger side is lined up along the concrete barrier, the front bumper bent from the impact. The driver side door is completely crushed from where the other car hit him, the glass from the window shattered and scattered all over the pavement.

And through the barely-recognizable open window, Carlos spots a familiar face, with familiar curly black hair, and what looks like a green polo.

The same one he currently has on.

“Oh.”

The syllable is pulled from somewhere within him without his permission. He feels a terrifying fear run through him, his mouth going dry as he mentally catches up to the reality of the situation.

His father takes a step closer, pulling Carlos’s attention away from the front seat of his car, where his body remains. Carlos looks up at him, his vision blurry, his father’s face a mask of pain and regret.

He can feel the warmth of his dad’s hand where it rests against the side of his neck, and it all clicks, his brain finally able to understand why he can sense the touch but not the rain falling down from the sky.

“Am I…?” he whispers, his voice breaking. 

Before his dad can confirm it, there’s the loud sound of a siren, followed by the blaring of a fire engine horn. The scene is suddenly awash with flashing lights, and Carlos turns just in time to be blinded by the headlights of a number of vehicles.

Help has finally arrived. 

He squints through the rain, trying to read the numbers on the side of a truck, wondering if he’ll know the team that has been sent to try to save his life.

It isn’t until the door opens that he realizes what station has responded to the call, Captain Strand’s voice carrying over the rain as he yells instructions to the rest of the 126.

“No,” Carlos cries, shaking his head as bile rises up into his throat. 

This has already been hard enough, there’s no way that he’ll be able to handle what’s about to happen.

His heart isn’t strong enough, not for this.

Carlos stands there, watching as two team members break off from the group to head straight for him. His vision is still hazy from the bright headlights, and they’re almost right next to him before he realizes it’s Paul and Judd.

They’re scanning the scene, talking about a game plan - Judd gesturing while Paul nods - when he sees Paul - the ever-observant Paul - do a double take, his gaze now fixed on the exact spot where Carlos knows his car sits, his body trapped inside.

“Judd, Judd!” Paul yells, cutting the other man off as he breaks into a run. “It’s Carlos!”

They speed towards the Camaro, Carlos following hesitantly behind. He comes around to the side, taking in the full extent of the damage to his car, before his eyes slide up, finally able to take stock of his injuries. 

There’s blood dripping down the side of his face from a large gash at his temple. The rest of his face, and even his neck, is littered with scratches from the broken glass, and he notices bruising on his arms. 

Carlos watches as Paul gently lifts his head, taking the strain off his neck. He gasps when he realizes that he can’t feel the touch. 

“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak,” Paul says, and Carlos sucks in a breath. “We don’t have long.”

“Damn, we gotta get him out of there,” Judd says, looking around. “Oh, fuck. TK…”

Carlos whips his head around, his heart sliding all the way down into his stomach as he’s finally brought face-to-face with the man who means the world to him. 

TK has stopped in his tracks, his gear falling to the wet pavement as the color drains from his face, just visible under his large helmet. His mouth falls open, his lips trying to form words, but no sound comes out. Carlos starts to make his way towards him, recognizing all the signs of a panic attack, but before he can get there, TK lets out a violent scream, barreling towards Carlos’s near-lifeless body.

It’s Captain Strand who intercepts him, TK’s dad grabbing him around the waist and hauling him back towards the truck, screaming orders as he goes.

“Marjan, call for assistance, then step in for Paul,” he yells, his voice strong and composed in the face of danger, as TK fights against him with everything that he’s got. Carlos races towards them, his eyes filling with tears as he takes in his thoroughly distraught boyfriend. 

“Mateo, help Paul free the other driver for medical, then assist with freeing Carlos,” Captain Strand calls, his voice breaking on the final word as he directs his team. Then, he pulls TK around the side of the truck, away from the scene, before wrapping his arms around him, surrounding TK in his embrace.

“TK, listen to me, listen to me! The team is working on him, and you know they will do everything in their power to get him out,” Owen says, his mouth pulled into a tight line as he holds his son. “They will move mountains to save him, so I need you to trust them, and let them do their jobs, okay?”

Carlos watches as TK eventually settles against his father’s chest, no longer making a sound or trying to escape. When Owen pulls away slightly, Carlos is able to take in the blank look on TK’s face, his bloodshot eyes, and the tears running down his cheeks. He reaches forward to wipe them away, letting out a sob when he touches TK without feeling his warmth, his thumb doing nothing to clear his boyfriend’s cheek.

After a few moments, Owen walks TK over to the ambulance, his boyfriend nothing more than a body being manhandled. The fire captain sits him down on the edge of the truck, and Carlos watches as Nancy hands him a shock blanket to wrap around TK shoulders. Owen removes TK’s helmet, running a hand through his short, brown hair, trying to keep him calm.

Carlos moves forward, taking his place at TK’s side. He leans in to press his forehead against his boyfriend’s temple. 

It doesn’t matter that TK can’t feel him and has no idea that he’s there; Carlos refuses to be anywhere else.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers, pressing his soul into every syllable, hoping that somehow, TK can hear him. “You’ve gotta be strong for me, okay? I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, but you’ve gotta hold on. Just, hold on for me, Ty.”

There’s yelling in the distance, sounds of the team hard at work, but Carlos ignores them. He can’t worry about anything right now, not when TK needs him. 

“He’s beautiful, mijo,” a voice says next to him. He jumps, turning to find his father standing at his side, looking down at where Carlos’s hand is resting over TK’s. “He’s everything that I ever wanted for you.”

Carlos can hear his heart pounding in his ears, his mouth falling open at his father’s statement. His dad must understand what he’s thinking because he leans forward, pressing a kiss to his curls.

“I know, nene,” he says simply, the weight of the world weaved into his words. “I know.”

“I’m sorry I never got the chance to tell you,” Carlos whispers, tears falling as he finally voices one of the biggest regrets of his life. 

“I’m not,” his father states, shaking his head. “You needed to do it in your own time, mijo, and you had no way of knowing how little we had together.” He squeezes Carlos’s shoulder. “I’m just happy that I get to see it now. He really is something.”

Carlos turns back towards TK, his eyes focused on the way his boyfriend’s lower lip trembles as he rocks back and forth. 

“He can’t lose me, papa,” Carlos says, his voice wavering. “He’s so strong, but he’s been through so much already. I can’t let this happen to him, I can’t leave him.”

“Sometimes it’s not up to us, mijo,” his father says, his sadness clear in his voice.

“Then what am I doing here?” Carlos cries, looking around as he watches his final moments on this earth. “Why am I watching this? Why are you here? There has to be a reason, papa!”

“Carlos, you know I was never really into the spiritual stuff,” his dad admits, a guilty expression on his face. “That was always my sister’s thing, not mine. Who knows? Maybe this is what happens for everyone.”

Carlos turns back to TK, running his fingers along his jawline. 

“No, I have to fight for him,” Carlos says, his voice certain. “We’re not done yet. We have an entire life left to live together.”

“Carlos…” his father starts, only to be cut off by a yell from the scene.

“Medic!”

Carlos feels TK jerk next to him, his eyes wide. He moves around to crouch in front of his boyfriend, taking his face in his hands. He knows TK can’t feel him or see him or hear him, but he still tells him.

“Don’t worry, Ty. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I love you with every fiber of my being, and I believe in us. Don’t give up on me yet.”

“You have to let him go, Carlos.”

“No!”

“No, mijo, listen to me,” his father cries, a new tone in his voice. Carlos looks up at him, watching as his father looks around, almost like he’s seeing the scene with new eyes. “You have to let him go, Carlos, so that you can go back.” His father points towards his mangled car, where his body is, before he turns to look at him, his eyes now shining with tears.

“You have to save yourself before you can save him, Carlos.”

The words shoot through him, ricocheting around his heart, and he knows in an instant that his father’s right.

His fight’s not finished, he just needs to get back into it.

Out of nowhere, Carlos lets out a gasp of pain, his hand coming to press against the left side of his ribcage. It suddenly feels like someone has just stabbed him with a knife, the blade inserted between his ribs. The pain continues to build, and he lets out another gasp as his vision starts to swim. There’s pain everywhere, all over his body, and it nearly brings him to his knees.

“Mijo!” his dad cries, reaching out to hold him up. Carlos realizes, with a jolt of shock, that he can’t feel his father’s touch anymore. “Listen to me, Carlos, I don’t have a lot of time.” His voice sounds like it’s coming from the other end of a long tunnel. 

“This is going to hurt a lot,” his father continues, and Carlos watches a tear fall to his cheek. “But remember, you have to keep fighting. Don’t stop until it’s done, okay? Don’t stop until you’re back with your boy.”

His dad reaches up to cup his face, his smile once again wide and blinding. “I’m so glad that I got to meet him, mijo, even if it was just like this. He is so special, and I am so proud of you and everything that you have become. I could not have asked for a better son.”

Carlos lets out another gasp, this time with a sob, the pain in his chest nearly causing him to black out. 

“I love you, mijo, more than you will ever know.”

His father leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead, and Carlos shuts his eyes as another wave of pain courses through him. 

By the time he opens them again, his father is gone.

Carlos is so overwhelmed, feeling like his body is trying to tear itself apart, spots dancing in his eyes now.

He turns back towards TK, his boyfriend’s face still a blank mask of misery and shock and grief. Carlos lets out a yell, bringing another hand up to press against his ribs. He’s finding it harder to breath, no longer able to tell exactly where the pain is coming from now.

He moves closer to TK again, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Just, hold on a little longer, Ty. I’m on my way back to you, okay? Stay strong just a little longer.”

He closes his eyes, letting the pain crescendo as a scream is torn from his body.

He feels hands pressing all over his body - his head, his face, his chest. Carlos opens his eyes, letting out a sharp gasp, turning his head to figure out what’s going on.

“We got him!” he hears a voice yell, recognizing Judd’s accent. “Reyes, hold still, we’re gonna have you out of there in no time.”

He’s back in his car, trapped in the driver’s seat. 

Except this time, he’s in a lot of fucking pain.

“Hey, Carlos,” a voice says to his right, and he turns to find Tommy shining a light in his face from where she’s seated next to him. He’s guessing she had to climb in through the passenger window. “Carlos, can you hear me?”

“TK,” he gasps, his boyfriend the only thought on his mind. “TK,” he says again, louder this time.  
  


“TK’s here, he’s okay, Carlos,” Tommy assures him, her eyes locked on him as she examines his injuries. “We’ll get him over here as soon as we have you out of the car, the team’s working hard on it. Now, how much pain are you in?”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy says, her tone kind and familiar. It makes him relax a bit. “Where does it hurt the most?”

“My left side, near my ribs,” he answers, gasping as another wave of pain shoots through him. “And my head.”

“Okay, that’s good,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “You hit your head pretty hard, but we’ve bandaged that up. You most definitely have a concussion. As for your side…” She trails off.

“What is it?”

“A metal bar impaled you when the door caved in,” she replies, her voice gentle. “It’s still in there, and we’re going to keep it in there as long as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are you having any trouble breathing, Carlos?”

“A little.”

“Captain, we’re ready when you are,” Judd calls, interrupting their conversation. Carlos turns back towards him, watching as the man smiles down at him. “Damn, it’s good to see your eyes, Reyes.”

“Okay, everybody,” Tommy calls, taking command of the scene. “I need you to cut that bar off as quickly as possible and get that door out of my way. The faster we move on this, the less blood we’ll lose. All hands on deck and ready to pack the entry point on my signal.”

There’s a consensus from all around him, and Tommy reaches out for Carlos, turning his face back towards her. 

“You’re doing great, Carlos. We’re almost there,” she says, giving him a smile.

“And then I’ll see, TK?” he asks, his voice small.

“Absolutely, as soon as possible.”

The team works quickly, and though Carlos feels uncomfortable as the metal rod in his chest vibrates in time with the power saw, he doesn’t let it faze him. Instead, he just pictures TK’s face. He’s going to stay awake until he can see him again.

The door is off its hinges in record time, and Nancy and Tim come forward with gauze to start packing the area around his injury. Then, they step back, Paul and Judd taking their place to carefully lift him out of the car and onto a stretcher. Tommy stands at his side, her hands held tight to his chest, applying pressure to the wound.

His vision swims before him, all of the movement nearly causing him to black out again from the pain. 

“TK…” he mutters, hoping someone will hear him.

“Carlos!” 

It’s that voice, the one he’s been waiting so long to hear. He blinks, trying to clear his vision, as his boyfriend’s face comes into view, his face pale and his eyes wide. Carlos reaches out for him, a sob climbing up his throat when TK takes his hand.

He can feel the touch of his skin again.

He made it back to him.

“I love you, Ty,” he says, his voice fading as his eyes begin to close. 

“I love you, too, babe,” TK cries, bringing his free hand up to run through Carlos’s curls as the team finally makes it to the ambulance. “Everything’s going to be okay. Just, hold on.”

“I’m not going anywhere, TK,” Carlos manages to get out before everything fades to black. “Not without you. Never without you.”

It’s a promise that he keeps for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


End file.
